Leave A Tender Moment Alone
by vicodin-vixens
Summary: The Down-Low' if it were out and proud. Warning: Slash. We own nothing but a Dixie Cups 45 and tangerine chiffon bridesmaids dresses.


**A/N: Our entry in what we're sure will become The Great House/Wilson Proposal-thon of 2010.**

Wilson was mad.

To be honest, he had passed 'mad' hours ago and had now moved on to 'fury'.

Fury suited him at the moment, he thought, as he raked his hands through his hair for about the fourteenth time, and paced his office floor. He had paced so often he was sure he had worn a rut in the pathway from one wall to the other in front of his desk.

The cause of his apparent fury was glaringly obvious.

House.

Who else could elicit such a primitive response from the normally unflappable Dr. Wilson?

Only House.

And Wilson was used to House being an ass, but this was sinking lower than even Wilson had thought possible of House.

Pretending to be gay in order to win over Nora. Wilson was pretty sure House didn't even like Nora that much. He just wanted to screw with Wilson.

Wilson rotated his head on his shoulders and decided that the game was on. He wasn't going to pull any punches. He was going to have to beat House at his own twisted scheme.

Now that that was decided, Wilson felt his blood pressure return to normal, and his lips twisted in a smile as he thought of all the fun he could have embarrassing his best friend.

He tried telling Nora the truth, but apparently no one aside from Wilson was willing to believe that House was capable of such deception in order to get laid.

Truth be told, Wilson's mentioning of 'window treatments' wasn't a big help. When would he learn to shut his mouth while he was ahead?

Nora thought Wilson was jealous of the time she had been spending with House.

He took a moment to ponder that.

At first he agreed with her. But only because he thought he wanted to be the one spending time with _her. _But the more he thought about it, the more Wilson had to admit that maybe, just maybe, he was jealous of her taking away his time with _House._

But that was a ridiculous thought, so Wilson banished it to the far corners of his mind. Something to be thought about only in the wee hours of the night when sleep eluded him.

So, Wilson had to step up the ante.

What would really, really embarrass House, while at the same time provide Wilson with the perfect opportunity to get closer to Nora?

Wilson's eyes widened as the proverbial light bulb went off above his head.

A _proposal._

Because there was no way House could accept, and then the poor bereft Wilson would be left crying on Nora's shoulders.

Perfect.

When Wilson walked into the restaurant that night, with the ring box feeling conspicuous in his coat pocket, he told himself that the nerves he was feeling were simply a side-effect of the fact that in order to embarrass House, he also had to humiliate himself.

A furtive glance around the restaurant told Wilson that it was packed.

His tie felt tight. His mouth felt dry, and yet somehow he managed to croak out House's name.

"What are you doing here?" House questioned, looking appropriately suspicious.

Without taking another moment to consider the reprucussions, Wilson announced to the crowd that he was in love with House, and was not going to deny it any longer.

The look on House's face was priceless.

And it gave Wilson the impetus he needed to continue with the charade.

Bending down on one knee (Wilson was no stranger to this, after all) he flourished the ring box and heard himself ask the words he never thought he'd hear himself say.

"Gregory House...will you marry me?"

House's eyes were wide, and he grinned stupidly, making Wilson's heart flutter irrationally in his chest.

Wilson heard House mutter something about the proposal being 'unexpected' and felt Nora's watchful eyes flickering between the two of them.

She excused herself, no doubt feeling the tension Wilson had just created for himself.

And yet surprisingly, House hadn't said no.

In fact, he hadn't really said much of anything.

Interesting.

Wilson took the recently vacated seat and took a much needed sip of wine.

The two of them. Alone at a table. Nothing unusual about that.

And still...

"I can't believe you went out and _bought_ me a ring just in order to score. She must be _some_ special." House said, his eyes looking vaguely disappointed.

"I didn't _buy_ you a ring." Wilson grumbled, breaking off a piece of crusty bread from the basket on the table.

House leaned forward, "Yes. You did."

"You obviously maintain a high opinion of yourself. I hate to disappoint that level of optimism, House. This is one of my old wedding rings."

"No. It's not." House grinned smugly.

"Of course it is!" Wilson sputtered, "Why on earth would I _buy _a ring I had no intention of using?"

House leaned back, looking pleased with himself. "Let me see it."

Wilson's eyes narrowed questioningly, "What for?"

"Just let me see it!" House demanded, palm out.

Wilson fished the box back out of his pocket and slammed it into House's hand, furious with himself.

"Now, give me your hand." House said, holding the ring in one hand and his other hand outstretched, awaiting Wilson's.

"You're crazy. I already proposed. You can't propose again. Besides, the game's over. Nora's gone."

House said nothing, but looked pointedly at Wilson, until he relinquished, and placed his hand in House's.

"You say this is your ring, huh?" House asked, sliding the ring onto Wilson's finger. He smiled and gave Wilson's wrist a slight shake. The ring clattered onto the table. "Just how much weight did you lose?"

Wilson felt his cheeks flush. The ring obviously didn't belong to him. It was much too big, and House knew it.

House slipped the ring onto his own finger, then held his hand out admiringly. "Nice ring, though. I'm flattered."

"Yeah, well..." Wilson stammered, at a loss for words.

"It's about time you said yes!" said the white-haired old lady, now standing beside their table, "Now kiss him already!"

House and Wilson gaped at her.

"Go on now." She said, gesturing with her wrinkled old hand.

"Oh, well..." This time it was House's turn to become flustered.

Wilson rose to the challenge.

"Come on, honey. We can kiss in public now. It's okay." He grinned foolishly.

House pursed his lips and glared at Wilson. "Fine. Darling."

He limped over to Wilson's side of the table, and looked back at Granny, who nodded approvingly, then lowered his head and captured placed his lips chastely against Wilson's.

Unexpectedly, Wilson opened his lips and felt House's tongue slide inside at the same time that House tangled his fingers in Wilson's hair. Wilson heard himself gasp, and kissed back with more passion than he'd thought was possible.

It wasn't until they heard the old woman cluck appreciatively that they pulled apart from each other. House shuffled back to his seat, and Granny smiled at them as she left, touching Wilson on the shoulder as she went past.

"You two will have a fine marriage."

Wilson fiddled with the end of his tie, seemingly too embarrassed to look up at House.

"I think I'd like a June wedding." House mused, and Wilson's head jerked up.

"What?"

"Jersey has such lovely weather in June, don't you think?" House asked, smiling.

They sat together on House's garish choice of furniture (Wilson vowed never to let House make a decision like that without consulting him first), their fingers locked together and House reclining slightly against Wilson.

"How did you know?" Wilson asked, taking his eyes away from the television to glance at House.

"Know what, exactly?"

"About the ring," Wilson replied, his thumb tracing the band of gold that encircled House's ring finger, "That it wasn't really mine. You knew before you even really saw it."

"Oh, that," House laughed, "I sold all your wedding rings when we moved in here."

"You did what?" Wilson wasn't sure if he should be upset or relieved.

"How do you think I paid for the couch?"


End file.
